


Looking down on these bright blue city lights

by georgescatcafe



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: "You Are So Annoying" & Other Quotes by George, Best Friends, Dream is Sick :(, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Patches Makes an Appearance, Unrealistic Portrayal of Intercontinental Flights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26765860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgescatcafe/pseuds/georgescatcafe
Summary: "How’s Dream doing?”“Fever still,” Sapnap says. “You know we’re exposing ourselves to his diseases?”“His germs?” George asks.“The Dream Disease?”Or: Dream is sick, and Sapnap and George go the extra mile to help him. An extra thousand and four thousand miles, actually.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 279





	Looking down on these bright blue city lights

**Author's Note:**

> hi i wrote this for my friend on twitter i'm literally sending them a link to this so when u see this: sorry i'm so awkward but u're amazing and ily <333
> 
> oh also sorry if u don't like this type of fic :( idk what kind of fics u read
> 
> title from "king and lionheart" by of monsters and men bc i am nothing if not predictable

Dream was notorious for taking days to reply to texts, but this was getting a bit insane.

“He hasn’t answered any of my calls either,” Sapnap sighs. “And I’ve called him, like, five hundred times.”

“I’ll try again,” George says, Sapnap making a face at that, “sorry if he answers. I can’t help that I’m his favorite.”

“You’re literally not, but go off I guess.” George ignores Sapnap’s eye roll as he calls Dream on Discord, only for his call to go unanswered. He calls again. Still no answer. One more try.

Nothing.

George leans back in his chair as Sapnap drops his face into his hands. 

“So Dream isn’t replying or answering calls,” Sapnap says. “Great.” George hears the squeak of his chair as he gets up. “Should I go over there?” he asks. Rustling, fabric, clothes falling into a suitcase—

“Are you out of your mind?” George asks. “It’s probably nothing big. He’s just… in his head or something.”

“Speedruns? You know he hasn’t been doing them lately.” George watches as Sapnap comes into view with a large duffel bag, clothes already spilling over the sides. “Do you think this is enough? I don’t know how long I’d stay. Is it weird to use his washing machine?”

“It’s not weird to—,” George thinks about it, “—maybe it’s a little weird to use his laundry machine, but I don’t think he’d care. And besides, you’re _not_ going to Florida.”

“Aww,” George’s expression turns sour as Sapnap makes kissy faces at the camera, “is little Georgie-Worgie sad he can’t go to Florida? That he can’t be the one to check up on his little Dreamie-Weemie?”

George’s brows draw together in disgust. “ _No._ What the hell? You’re being weird. Stop being weird.”

Sapnap makes one more kissy face, batting his eyelashes, before he disappears and returns a few seconds later with a toothbrush and toothpaste. He presents them to George before dropping them into his duffel bag.

George crosses his arms, leaning even further back in his chair. “Just move in with him while you’re at it.”

“Do you _want_ to come?” Sapnap asks.

George doesn’t reply. Though he’s turned away from the monitor, he can practically feel Sapnap’s eyes on him. A minute passes.

“Look,” Sapnap finally says, “I’m not Dream, so I can’t pay for your ticket or anything—I can hardly afford my own ticket, not to mention yours is intercontinental—but I can pay for half.” 

George finally meets Sapnap’s eyes through the computer screen. “You don’t have to do that,” he says.

Sapnap hesitates, eyes shifting, before he looks back at George. “I know,” he agrees, “but I want to. I know what it’s like to be left behind while your friends have fun an entire ocean away.”

“Sapnap,” George starts, guilt twisting his stomach (it’s not like he had control of the situation, but he knows what it looked like, he knows the pauses he and Dream would take, waiting for someone else to speak, for Sapnap to speak, only to remember that it’s just them), but Sapnap shakes his head.

“Just go to Florida, George.” He zips up his bag. “I can pick you up at the airport or call you a cab or something, okay?”

It’s an oddly tender moment between them. George feels his throat seize up. He should say _okay_. He wants to say _okay_.

Sapnap sighs. “Besides, if Dream is sick or something, you can be the one to wear the maid costume.”

George makes an indignant noise. “How is that supposed to make me want to go with you?”

“You’re telling me that if given the opportunity, you wouldn’t wear a skirt?” Sapnap tugs on a hoodie before finally sitting back down in his chair.

George glares at him. “You would?”

A message pops up on George’s screen. _I cant hear u?? What r u saying???_

George’s glare doesn’t let up. “You’re so annoying,” he tells the other.

_Help I rly cant hear u :(((( and lips are hard to read :(((( I’m so amazing????_

“You’re annoying!” Though as he says it, he’s already starting to laugh. 

Sapnap finally speaks. “Sorry, I just missed that last bit. What did you say?”

George gives up on biting back his laughter. “I hate you.”

* * *

They go 50-50 on the ticket. A day later and George finds himself on American soil. When Sapnap drives up, George is already sticky with a layer of sweat. The weather isn’t even that hot for a Floridian’s standards, he supposes, but being a Brit definitely skews your ideas of heat. Anything higher than 20 degrees and George finds himself done for. He pulls his t-shirt away from his chest as he slides into the passenger seat (on the opposite side, of course; weird, weird, weird) before glancing over at his friend. “Thanks for picking me up. How’s Dream doing?”

“Fever still,” Sapnap says. “You know we’re exposing ourselves to his diseases?”

“His germs?” George asks.

“The Dream Disease?”

George laughs. “A risk I’m willing to take. It’s just a fever anyway, isn’t it?”

Sapnap nods as they pull away from the curb. “It’s not even that bad; he’s just being a huge baby about it.”

“And now we’re here,” George realizes, wry.

“And now we’re here,” Sapnap agrees.

“Can’t say I regret it.”

Sapnap looks over at him for a second too long for George’s comfort as a lorry flies by. “Me neither,” he finally says when he turns back to the road. 

* * *

When they reach Dream’s house, Sapnap shows him where the hidden key is before unlocking and opening the door for him. “He’s sleeping right now,” he whispers, “so I was thinking we just bring in your things then you can sleep too? I’m really counting on you guys waking up around the same time.”

“That’s a lot to count on,” George replies, but he agrees to the plan anyway, pulling his suitcase out the trunk before following Sapnap into the house, nearly tripping when a cat comes and twines herself between his legs.

“Patches,” he says softly, elated when she meows up at him. He brings his suitcase to stand on its wheels beside him before reaching down to pet between her ears, the fur there soft between his fingers. “You’re so pretty; you’re so cute, aren’t you?” When he straightens back up, Patches striding off to who knows where (maybe Dream’s room?), turning around the corner of the hallway, Sapnap is clearly holding back laughter at his babytalk. “Whatever,” he glowers, “you love Patches too.”

“That’s fair,” Sapnap replies before they make their way down the same hallway Patches disappeared down. He pushes open the second door on the left to reveal an empty guest room.

“Kind of sad,” George says, dragging his suitcase in behind him before setting it at the foot of the bed, “him in this huge house all by himself.”

“You could always just… not go home,” Sapnap tells him, hand on the light switch. “On or off?”

“Off,” George replies, mulling over his friend’s words.

“But seriously,” Sapnap continues, “just think about it. You don’t _technically_ have an obligation to anyone in the UK. You could leave, and it wouldn’t be a big deal. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“There’d still be an empty room,” George finally says, sitting on the bed, socked feet dragging across the smooth wood floor.

“Better one than two, right?” Sapnap drums his fingers on the doorframe before shrugging. “Think about it.” He leaves the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. George listens to his footsteps get further away.

And then he thinks about it.

* * *

When he wakes up, it’s to the smell of pizza. It permeates near every corner of his room, and he rolls out of bed, sluggishly following the scent. Jet lag’s started to wear off, but now he’s got some type of sleep hangover, and it weighs him down with every step.

He reaches the living room eventually, though, finding Sapnap and Dream on opposite sides of the couch, Dream stretched out, long legs covered by a blanket, both of them watching some baseball game on the television, paper plates on their laps.

George stands in the opening of the hallway for a second before Dream catches sight of him and angles himself towards him, arms spreading wide as George walks closer to him.

“No,” George says, reaching down to take a plate and slice of pizza from where it all is set out on the coffee table. “But hello, Dream. Feeling alright?”

“When Sapnap first arrived,” Dream says, voice just the slightest bit off (congestion, maybe), “he threatened to take me to the hospital.”

“He was running a 102 fever!” Sapnap defends himself.

“It has to be 103,” Dream says.

“What is it now?” George asks, motioning for one of them to move so he can have a place on the couch. Dream lifts his plate from his lap and draws his knees to his chest. George sits between him and Sapnap. Dream stretches his legs back out over George’s. George sighs, but lets him keep them there. Whatever. 

“99,” Dream answers, smug.

George looks at Sapnap.

“You, like, _just_ missed his fever,” Sapnap says.

George remembers his and Sapnap’s short conversation in the car. Still, he says: “So I came all this way for nothing?” 

Dream gives an indignant _hey!_ , but when George looks over at him, he’s smiling, the view obscured as he looks down at his plate.

“You are both _so_ annoying,” George declares.

“Yet you’re sitting here with us,” Sapnap says.

“Curious!” Dream concludes, lifting his pizza slice and taking a bite.

George sighs, and resigns himself to a week with these two. It’s not like he hates them. He’s actually pretty happy to be here. He stares down into the little pool of oil that’s gathered in the crater of a pepperoni then glances at Sapnap, who’s back to watching the baseball game, whooping whenever the team he’s decided to root for scores, then at Dream, who’s started to argue that something a player did that would’ve gone better had he just _instead_ —George hides his smile by taking a bite of his pizza.

Yeah, he’s definitely happy to be here.

**Author's Note:**

> the weird usage of british terms.... there's no way george doesn't use american phrases that mf is probably sooo americanized what the hell BUT JUST TO BE SAFE i used british terms over american when i could.. also pls don't ask about the whole celsius fahrenheit thing i know nothing and also intercontinental friendships are weird <3
> 
> also sorry if this is ooc i literally cannot write dteam but i tried lmao
> 
> ps obvs i hinted at this being part of a bigger universe so maybe i might expand it one day? but prolly not idk lol
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ywywbunny) & [tumblr](https://georgescatcafe.tumblr.com)


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